Six.

Grace Daisy, you are six.
You love beauty, and can spend an easy hour making something, anything, more beautiful with thoughtful attention to detail and design. You often tell me how much you like to take what you have and make something beautiful with it. And you really do.
You take the hair accessory drawer and flip it upside down, just for the chance to carefully regroup it's contents into a better, more lovely and organized fashion.
You love to pick out not just your outfit, but your sisters' as well.
You do things with intentionality. You don't just throw anything together. There's always a reason it's just so.
You are the most like me, and in our family I'm the most like you. We generally tolerate one another nicely. You extend grace to me when we don't. I hope you see me doing the same for you.
You dislike talking to new people. And trying new things. But I see you pushing your limits daily, often doing the hard stuff, and introducing yourself in a way that would never let that new friend know that you were afraid. And I'm so proud.
You lead by example and it's tough at the top. You take the roll well, and are so good to take your sisters' and brother's hands in yours while they figure out how to follow.
You know when it's true, and you hate when it's a lie. You talk to Jesus and know He's right there with you. You talk to me, and anyone else, about Him as naturally as you love pink and sparkles.
It never occurs to you to be inhibited about the One who took your heart and sealed it just three years ago. And I want daily to have a heart as wide open as yours is. Maybe someday I'll grow up and be just like you, Miss Six.